


Detroit: Noir

by IrrationallyLogical



Series: Detroit Become Human Original Fanfictions (during game and post game and aus) [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 1920s, Detectives, Detroit, Detroit Become Human AU, Gen, Im sure ill add more, Mafia AU, Mobsters, Murder, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrrationallyLogical/pseuds/IrrationallyLogical
Summary: It's Detroit, 1928. After a politician is murdered under mysterious circumstances, Detective Hank Anderson is assigned the case. He's also assigned a new partner who works for an organization believed to be a front for a mob. They have to work together to find out who the killer is but will it be that easy?Find out in Detroit: Noir{I do not own any of the characters unless I explicitly state they are my original creation}
Series: Detroit Become Human Original Fanfictions (during game and post game and aus) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610701
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think.

It's November 1928, late at night, darker and cooler then's considered comfortable. Snow was falling on the roof of an apartment building on the Detroit skyline. John Philips was outside having a smoke on the balcony, his daughter and wife fast asleep in their beds. 

His campaign for governor was going well but lately he's been bothered by some business deals that could greatly affect the outcome of said election. He was sure he could iron everything out but the sooner it was resolved the faster his insomnia would go away.

A ringing rang through the air and John went inside the house to answer it, mildly irritating at the lateness of the call. "Philips residence, what are you calling about?"

"Hello Mr. Philips." A calm chilling voice said. "Apologies for the late call."

"Who i-" John cut off as he realized who was on the other line. In a hushed tone he asked. "What the hell do you think you're doing calling me here? I thought we had an agreement you wouldn't do anything that could be traced between the two of us."

"That's what I wanted to call you about."

"Well get on with it." John demanded.

"I'm terminating the contract."

"What?!" His voice rose. "You can't do that!"

"I'm afraid I can."

"I- I- I" He stammered. "I'll go to the police with information about you! I won't let you ruin me!"

"I've already accounted for that contingency. Did you honestly never consider you would lose your value to me? Or that I wouldn't have a plan to insure you couldn't expose me? That's disappointing. But that's of no matter anymore, goodbye John. Oh, before I go, I wanted to let you know that one part of your contract remains intact. Your wife and daughter are protected, however; you're a different story."

And the line cut off.

Johns hands shook as he called the police, "Hello, Detroit Po-"

He tried the line again quickly but nothing. 

The phone line was cut. 

John backed against a wall, his heartbeat accelerating as he jumped at the slightest sound. Dammit! This couldn't be happening, but it was. Dammit.

It was then he heard footsteps, and with a cracked voice he called out, "Whose there?"

A blonde haired man with a butlers attire walked into the room. He sighed with relief, "Daniel, I can't tell you how good it is to see you."

"Is everything ok sir?" Was the reply.

John sighed. "Nothing that can't wait until morning." But then he remembered something. "Wait, what are you doing here this late? You were sent home hours ago."

"There was some business I had to take care of." Daniel said, his gloved hand brought out to reveal a gun. Pointed at John.

"Daniel..." He said, feeling speechless. "Wha- why?"

"I'm truly sorry sir. I really enjoyed serving your family but I was offered a better job." 

"Yo- You don't have to do this." He begged. "Please, I don't want you to do thi-" A flash of light and muzzled bang ended that sentence. John Philips dropped to the ground as blood poured out of the fresh wound. Daniel's hands shook as he went over to the body and placed the gun in the corpses hands. 

When Mrs. Philips woke up the next morning, she was only mildly concerned when she didn't find him beside her. But she just chalked it up to he probably just slept on the couch. Her concern only rose a little when he wasn't there. So the fact that when she saw her husband dead by the telephone, she let out a loud blood curling scream, wasn't very surprising.

This is my new dbh fanfic. It has a lot of characteristics of a novel I'm writing but I thought it'd be an interesting side thing to write. I'm excited to do this and hope you enjoy this


	2. Introductions Are In Order

November 5, 1928 

Detroit Police Department

11:07 A.M

Lieutenant Hank Anderson had decided to show up. This was only mildly surprising in the fact that he didn't have an air of alcohol on him. 

In turn however, a sober scowl had gotten residency on his face. A scowl that sent the message to the other officers to stay the hell away from him if they knew what was good for them. To their credit they did, even Detective Gavin Reed, who'd only recently joined the force and never backed down from anything, avoided eye contact with him.

Making his way to his desk, Hank shrugged off his jacket and set it down over his chair and immediately sat down. Avoiding looking through the pile of low-tier cases on his desk that had been there for a few weeks, he got the newspaper that had mysteriously been set there.He looked up to see who'd set it down and saw the policeman by the name Chris Miller. He hadn't had many conversations with the man but when he gave him a nod it was returned.

Just as Hank had started to unfreeze for the rest of the day, Captain Jeffery Fowler stepped out of his office and yelled out, "Anderson! So nice of you to join us. Get in here now!"

After a moment of deliberation of whether to get suspended this early in the day, he decided it wasn't worth it and got up and went to Fowler.

"Shut the door Hank and then sit down." He ordered. When that was done Fowler sighed and said "Mayor Philips is dead."

Hank's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"You heard me, he was found in his apartment this morning by his wife. Gunshot wound to the head, appears to be self inflicted but this close to the election the mayor wants us to do an official investigation."

Hank shook his head with a annoyed expression. Of course this case was given to this precinct, it seemed the laughing stalk of the city. With Gavin being the youngest rookie to have the detective rank, Hank being deemed the old drunken detective, being the first department to hire people of color as police officers and their captain, their department was considered a joke. This was being passed off to them because it wasn't being taken seriously.

Then the reason he'd been called in occurred to him. "Oh hell no Jefferey. I'm not taking this damn case."

"Sorry Hank but you are. I'm also assigning you a partner." Fowler gestured behind Hank. He turned around and nearly jumped when he found a man in a black suit who appeared to be in his 20's sitting against the back wall. He stoop up with his hand outstretched. 

"Hello Lieutenant, I'm pleased to be working with you. My name is Connor S-"

"No, I'm not taking this case and I'm not getting a partner either!" He said, ignoring the man.

"Hank, I'm not taking any more of your shit right now! I've got the press and the mayor breathing down my neck to make sure this goes smoothly as possible. And so we're partnering with the company that worked closely with the deceased Philips campaign." Fowler didn't particularly looked pleased by what he was saying. "This will be your partner until you can solve this case, Connor Stern."

"I already told y-" Hank cut off. Wait, Connor... Stern? 

Shit.

"As in he Amanda Stern's kid and works for Stern Incorporated." He said, casting a glance to the man who'd made his way beside him who had kept his eyes trained on Hank trying to read him. 

Amanda Stern was the boss of Stern Incorporated, a large scale manufacturing business that had the monopoly in Detroit. She had risen in the corporate world despite the world that wasn't ready for a black woman to be as powerful as she's become. Early in her career she'd adopted a boy who the public knew very little about. None of this was the issue for Hank, what he disliked was the fact that Stern Incorporated was a front for the mob. One of the reasons Amanda Stern had been able to get where she was with as little resistance as was given was because she had the money, influence, and the force to crush it. Of course none of this was proven because not only were several officers under her thumb but the media was as well. If Stern Incorporated was working with John Philips, that would explain his campaign for governor and how well it was going.

"Yes, I am Ms. Stern's son." Connor gave a small smile. "Adopted of course."

"Mr. Stern, if you could wait outside for just a moment, I'd just like to have a word with my detective." Fowler said with the most forced boot licking smile Hank'd ever seen him wear. He could see Hank brewing up a storm that was about to roll in.

"Of course Captain, I'll wait outside in the lobby. Lieutenant." He acknowledged and left the room.

"You want me to work with the fucking mob?!" He exploded once Connor had left. "With the son of that mobs leader none the less!"

"Look we don't have that much of a choice. You know the connections the Sterns have, they have their own reasons for wanting this case solved. Besides the kids good," Hank rolled his eyes. "He is. One of the many reasons they haven't gone to the cops in recent years is because he's acted as a one man police force. He's their own private detective. He may be young but he'll do the work."

"Bullshit Jeffery, I don't care how 'good' he is." Hank said jumping up and pacing in front of his desk. "I'm not working with a crook like him that's above the law."

"Goddammit Hank! I don't like this anymore then you do!" He snapped back. "But you're going to do it before I add anything more to your disciplinary files and by god it's already the length of a fucking novel!"

"Fine!" Hank angrily conceded. "Shit, I'll do it." He opened the door and slammed it behind him.

He stormed over to his desk this fuming even more then when he'd came in earlier. Not even the newspaper or fresh coffee that had mysteriously made its way to his desk could relieve his tension. Before he could decide whether or not to go to an early lunch, regardless of the fact that he had only been there for about 30 minutes, Connor made his way over to Hank.

"Hello again Lieutenant." He greeted. "I hope my being here isn't too much of an inconvenience. However I was being honest when I said I was pleased to be working with you. You're track record with solving cases and cracking down on several opium dens is impressive."

Hank just crossed his arms and grunted in acknowledgement, trying to reserve himself from doing something he might regret. The strain was however getting a lot for this camels back.

"In order to work well together we should perhaps get to know each other." He suggested. "If you have any questions for me I'd be happy to answer them."

Silence.

Furrowing his eyebrows Connor asked. "Did I do something to offend you Lieutenant? Apologies but I cannot fathom what it could be considering I haven't been in your vicinity for that long of a time."

He sighed. "Regardless we will have to work together so I suggest you get over whatever I've done to annoy you. I hope you're able to be professional through this case."

That was the last straw. Faster then anyone expected of him, Hank got up from his chair, grabbed Connor by his suit jacket and slammed him against the wall, the former merely raising an eyebrow in question. 

"Ok, listen you pompous asshole, I get that you have this high and mighty attitude and that cause of your mommy you don't need to do anything or give a shit about anything but I'm not going to take any of your crap. I might have to work with you but I don't have to like it. But sure, kid, I'll be professional. I'll be so damn professional you won't be able to stand it."

With that, Hank let go of Connor and he just adjusted his tie and suit jacket, he appeared to be unruffled. "Well then, I'm glad we have that settled. I've left my number with your captain so you can call me when you want to get started so I'll be leaving now. Oh, and one more thing Lieutenant," Connor said, leaning closer. "I would refrain from handling me in the manner you just did. It was amusing now but next time I won't allow you to even get far enough to touch me. I also wouldn't test that."

And he was gone, with the half of the department staring after him and and the other half gauging Hanks reaction. He however just seemed tired, though there was definitely still anger brewing underneath. He went up to Fowlers office and said "I'm taking a lunch break. Oh and thank you so much for my new partner." He spat out. "See you when I get back."

To his credit Captain Fowler said nothing but gave a nod as allowance to the 'request.'.

Hank left, wanting to fix the soberness that he was experiencing. He sighed as he passed the doors, this was going to be one of those cases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate the warm welcome with the prologue. I'm happy that those of you who haven't seen/played the og game are also enjoying it. There are two other things I want to say. This is posted on Wattpad under the same name so if that's your preferred website you can find it there, and if the people who haven't seen/played the og game could tell me if I write anything that references the game too much or you're confused by a reference, let me know. 
> 
> I'm trying to write something not connected to the game other then mannerisms of characters and names of characters so I want to stick to that as much as I can.
> 
> Hopefully that made sense but regardless, thank you all for the support and I hope you liked this chapter.


	3. Authors Note

Because this is based on the game that is set in 2038, there are going to be a few things that won't translate. In the game there are several people of color and they are both major and background characters and I don't want to make them white even if it may be historically accurate. So if at any point it sounds weird or I bring it up in an odd way apologies but I didn't want to change the characters but also its the 20's and like the chief of police is black in the game and the first black chief of police was in the 1980/90's.

So I just wanted to get that out of the way.

Let me know how often I should update. I'm thinking every friday and maybe wednesday. Thoughts?


	4. Try to Play Nice

November 6, 1928

Outside the Philips Residence

12:01 A.M.

Standing underneath an awning to avoid the pouring rain, Hank was outside the large apartment building with his arms crossed waiting for Connor Stern to show up. 

After taking time to cool down from yesterdays... introduction, Hank had waited until the next morning to call the other man. Connor'd answered the phone with no sign of any coldness towards what had happened. Rather he'd acted oddly pleasant, agreeing that they needed to look at the scene and talk to the family. Connor was heading over there at the moment and said he'd be there in half an hour.

And exactly 30 minutes on the dot, Hank spotted Connor in the same clothes as the day before walking up the street with a black umbrella being held as stiff as the man himself.

Hank shook his head, why in the world would anyone walk in this weather, especially when they had the money to at the very least get a cab. 

"Hello Lieutenant." Connor greets. 

"Stern," Hank acknowledged briefly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything Lieutenant." He replied.

"Why the hell did you walk here? It's pouring buckets." 

Connor looked up as if only now noticing the rain. "It wasn't raining when I left and once it started it seemed nice enough that I didn't hail a cab."

Hank scoffed after a moment. "Anyone ever tell you your strange?"

He smiled slightly. "I've heard something along those lines before. Should we go inside?"

Hank nodded. Once they got into the elevator and told the operator what floor, he spoke again. "And you can call me Hank."

Connor gave no reaction except for a sharp nod and perhaps it seemed there was less tension in his stature.

Once they arrived to the floor, Hank was met with a familiar place. "Ben, what are you doing here?"

The man in questioned turned from the officer he'd been talking to. "Hank, can't say I expected to see you here. Fowler must have really lit a fire under your ass huh."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it Ben." Hank said, albeit with a small grin. "Maybe I just decided I wanted to put more effort into showing up for work."

"I'll believe that when hell freezes over." Ben seemed to notice Connor then. "And whose this?"

"I'm Connor Stern, I've been assigned to help with the investigation." Connor answered.

"Stern..." He arched an eyebrow and turned to Hank. "You really must have pissed Fowler for him to partner the two of you with each other."

He scoffed in reply. "Must have. Can we get into the case now?"

"Sure, sure." Ben shrugged. "Vic's wife is in the kitchen, his daughters in her room. Body's in the living room, one shot to the head. Wife said she didn't hear a shot so we can assume that there was a silencer used."

"So it was premeditated." Connor noted. "Considering his job that lines up."

Hank and Ben looked at him. He noticed this and said, "Apologies, continue."

"Alright," Ben side eyed him. "The phone line was cut, we think that he was on the phone trying to call for help."

"Are there any indications of when he died? Rough estimate?"Hank asked.

"CSI hasn't gotten here yet."

"Can I take a look at the body?"Connor inquired. "I have a background in analysis and can give you a good idea of time of death."

Ben looked to Hank. "Your call."

After a moment he shrugged. "Go ahead kid, have at it."

He nodded and walked into the living room towards the body. The man, John Philips, was in a sitting position leaning against the wall with one hole between his eyes. Blood was splattered on the wall along with parts of brain matter. Connor knelt beside him and looked over him. A few minutes passed before he silently got up and moved to the balcony. Soon he came in and asked. "May I speak to the widow? She's in the kitchen, correct?"

"Yes." Ben replied. "But what could you tell from the body?"

"From the wound and the scene itself I'd say that the murderer was most likely someone he knew as there wasn't much of a struggle. I recognize that it was being called as a suicide but the angle of the shot isn't consistent with that. The door was locked so they either got into the apartment from the outside or more likely had access to the key. It was quick so while it was premeditated it wasn't personal and in fact was gentle in this situation." 

"What about the time?" Ben asked.

"That requires one more thing." He said already walking into the kitchen. A woman in a dark blue dress and a clutched handkerchief in her hands stood there.

With a consoling smile, Connor approached the grieving woman. "Hello Mrs. Philips, my names Connor. Could I have a word with you?"

"I know who you are." Caroline Philips spat at him. "Connor Stern."

Connor showed no signs of surprise or discomfort at the obvious disdain in her voice. "So you do, I know that Stern Incorporated and your late husband worked closely together."

She chuckled humorlessly. "That's one way to put it."

"How would you put it?" He asked genuinely. 

She looked around aimlessly for a moment before seemingly collecting herself. "I hated every minute he worked for you people. It was such shady business. I have no doubt in my mind that your company is what put is life in danger."

"I'm sorry you feel that way Mrs. Philips, I can only assure you that Stern Incorporated had nothing to do with this murder and that I am investigating his death with the best of my ability. If you would allow me to ask a few questions I won't take much time. I of course can stand back and let my colleagues ask you questions if that would make you more comfortable."

Hank shook his head. This man was standing before a woman who hated his guts and has told him so, yet he's still putting up this brown nosing facade. 

She looked at him strangely. "I'll answer your questions, but me and my daughter need to get going soon."

Satisfied with her cooperation Connor continued. "You're leaving the city?"

"We're going to spend some time with my mother. I can't bear to stay here now... now tha- that." She burst into a sob, eventually gathering her self again. "But yes, we're leaving."

"I understand. Just one question, you didn't hear a shot but did you hear a phone call?"

"I slept through most of the night, I'm sorry I really didn't hear anything at all."

"That's ok. Would it be alright if I spoke to your daughter?"

Mrs. Philips hesitated for a moment before she said. "Yes you can, she's in her room packing."

"Thank you Mrs. Philips. I won't be long, I promise." He turned and walked in the direction that was indicated to be the daughters room as Hank and Mrs. Philips followed.

In the room a girl that looked to be around the age of ten was sitting on her bed folding clothes into a suitcase. She looked up at the two men and at her mother. "Mom?"

She moved to her daughter and sat beside her. "It's alright sweetie, they just need to ask you some questions about last night."

"Hello," Connor said kindly as he knelt to her eye level. "My name's Connor, can I ask your name?"

"Emma." She responded.

"That's a very nice name." He complimented. "Are you alright with me asking you questions?"

Emma nodded.

"That's wonderful. Now really the only thing I need to know is if you heard anything last night?"

"She was asleep, she didn't hear anyt-" Mrs. Philips tried to say.

Connor lifted a hand and said. "I would like Emma to answer."

Emma looked down and avoided looking at Connor.

"Emma?" He questioned. "It's okay, you won't get in trouble. Did you hear anything?"

"I wasn't asleep, I was suppose to cause it was really late but I stayed awake anyway." 

"Do you remember the time?" He asked gently.

"I think it was around midnight." She fidgeted and then looked up. "I heard my daddy talking to someone on the phone. He sounded scared and angry. Then he got off the phone and started talking to someone else."

"Do you know who this other person was?" He asked.

She got quiet again. Her mother took her hand. "Emma? Honey, do you know who he was talking to?"

"He was talking with Daniel." 

"Whose Daniel?" This time the question was directed to the mother.

Mrs. Philips was considerably more pale then she'd been a second ago. "He's our butler, he also took care of Emma when we were away. They were close."

"He was my best friend, he was the coolest nanny in the whole world!" Emma burst out into tears. "But he killed my daddy, I know he did. Momma, why would he do this, why-" She collapsed against her mother.

She wrapped her arms around her child and her glare returned to Connor. "Get out of here, get away from my daughter." She looked at Hank, "Don't ever let that thing near me or my daughter again."

Connor tensed for the first time at the insult but he stood up and said in a neutral voice, "Thank you for answering my questions."

Hank followed him out of the room and shut the door behind him. Connor was standing stiffly as Hank walked towards him. "You alright kid?"

He seemed to snap out of it then and responded almost mechanically. "Of course. After all, we just got a very valuable piece of information. Would you like to hear my theory? Most of it was revealed with that piece of information but we should still make sure we're on the same page."

Hank looked at him for a moment before saying. "Sure, go for it."

He nodded and moved to the kitchen by the body. "He was outside on the balcony have a smoke, two cigarettes are down to the snub in the ash tray. The phone rang around midnight like the girl said and I can assume the person behind the murder was the one who called."

"I thought that the butler Daniel commited the murder?" Hank questioned.

"He did but not on his own." Connor looked over at him. "You heard the girl, she loved Daniel. That isn't the case of just a man who comes for work, he cared about her too. He wouldn't risk his career and life for nothing. Someone got to him."

Hank thought about it for a moment before conceding. "It's possible."

"I'd say this was around the time the phone line was cut. Daniel came out and shot him then, leaving immediately after."

"But what could they have done to him to convince him to do this?"

"I believe it's very likely it was for money." 

Hank was taken aback. "You just said that he cared for her, that isn't something that can be bought." 

"I'm sorry to say but yes it can and I think it was." Connor replied factually. "Nothing is worth so much emotionally that money, at the right price, change their mind.

Hank bit his tongue to keep him from saying- or doing - something he would get in trouble for. Of course he would think that, why wouldn't he? For a moment Hank'd forgotten he was apart of the mafia. He shouldn't have been surprised by this callousness, he'd probably done worse things anyway. And Hank didn't want to admit it, but it did make sense what he was saying. 

"So, Daniel killed him." Ben walked closer and had evidently been around long enough to catch the rundown. 

"Yes but we still don't know who killed him." Connor reminded him.

"You may be right but this is enough to tell the public." Ben replied. "And we need the public to be calm right now and it will be easier for them to be calm if they think this was just a crime because of low pay or shit like that."

"I suppose that's true." Connor said. "And we can work without the eyes of the public on us."

"Exactly."

Connor nodded before heading for the door. "I should get going, I want to avoid upsetting Mrs. Philips anymore then I have. If Captain Fowler needs my report I'm happy to come down and give it to him. If anything new happens with the case, feel free to call me."

Hank gave a grunt as acknowledgment of his leaving and once the door closed, Ben chuckled. 

"What so funny?" He asked him. "You find my situation amusing?"

"No, not at all." Ben attempted to stop smiling with little success. "Just that this case isn't going to be as simple as we thought."

Hank sighed. No, no it wouldn't be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this kinda went on a bit of a break but I can't write a crime scene for shit and school started back up so yeah. But I'm actually very excited to continue this and I hope that you also enjoy this as well. If you have any suggestions or criticisms I'm happy to take them so feel free to comment.


	5. The Garden

November 7 ,1928

Forest Park

10:22 A.M.

Connor walked swiftly in the park, casting brief glances to the others occupying the park. A man and his daughter, a young boy playing on a swing, an old man feeding some pigeons. Connor merely observed them, but didn't have any particular feelings toward any of them. They were irrelevant.

He eventually made his way to the parks local garden. It was quite beautiful, several looming white art installations decorating the area where a pond resided with a small island in the middle, connected by a bridge . This wasn't a trip for recreational purposes, Connor came here often to report, and this time wasn't any different.

As he got neared the bridge he caught sight of a middle aged woman sitting on a bench, staring at the passerbyers. Her eyes roamed the park until she made eye contact with Connor, a polite smile bracing her face, but not quite her eyes. Never the eyes.

"Connor," Amanda greeted. "It's so nice to see you again."

"Amanda," Connor replied. "The same to you."

She regarded him for a moment before turning away. "Let's walk."

They began to walk, starting their routine track around the garden.

"How is the case progressing?" Amanda asked. The time for pleasantries were over.

"We've identified the murderer as the families butler but I have my doubts that this was his own doing. Once we find the suspect I'm confident we'll find who is behind the killing."

"Good." She replied. "Mr. Philips murder brings concerning implications about Stern Industries. I trust you to accomplish this assignment soon to avoid anymore issues."

"Of course Amanda."

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. "And how is your partnership with Lieutenant Anderson going so far?"

Connor pondered that for a moment. "That's still to be determined, he seems apprehensive of me and of you. Hostile at times."

"Do you have a solution for this?"

"Only to attempt to make a functioning working partnership. I'll work to understand what will ease his distrust of me."

Amanda stopped walking and turned Connor, causing him to stop and turn as well, "Nothing interferes with this case, do you understand? This Lieutenant Anderson cannot hinder you in this investigation."

"I understand Amanda, I assure you, I will solve this case."

Two men come up and stand beside Amanda, opening an umbrella over her. "Ma'am, it's about to rain, we should leave." One of the men say.

She nodded and gave another stiff smile. "Connor, are you coming back to the compound?"

"No, I've decided to take up residence in a hotel closer to the relevant area."

"Good decision. Well then, goodbye Connor. I'll see you soon I expect."

"Goodbye."

And then Connor was by himself. 

He checked the time and sighed. Not even noon yet, and from the Lieutenant's past record of attendance Connor wouldn't have a chance of meeting with him for a few more hours yet. There wasn't much to do except for go back to his hotel and work on what little he knew of the case.

Aloft Detroit at The David Whitney

11:17 A.M.

There wasn't much to the hotel Connor was staying in. It was one of the better ones in the area, after all, it wasn't as though money was the deciding factor. It was remarkably close to the crime scene. The room had a very impressive view over the city, there was a standard setup, bathroom, single bed, and a desk. Connor hadn't unpacked the one suitcase he'd brought but he supposed at some point he had to set up his base of operations as it was.

After getting all of his clothes and toiletries put away, he brought his work related items out. On the desk, Connor set every file he had on John Philips and the butler Daniel Smith, both the files brought from the precinct and the ones Stern Industries had on them. He put up the chalk board and the bulletin board he'd asked to be delivered so he had a space to show any progress they made.

He spread out the files across the desk as well as the bed and pins three things to bulletin board: the pictures of Philips body, the ballistics of the bullet, and the autopsy. 

The autopsy shows what Connor had already observed. One single bullet went between the lower part of the brain that houses the brain stem which controls how organs function, causing an instant death. 

The bullet came from a M1911A1 semi action, semi automatic, magazine fed, and recoil operated hand gun. It's been in service with the US Armed Forces since 1911. It wasn't carried by civilians and wasn't easily accessible. And while Daniel did have a background of being in the Navy from the years 1910-1911, this firearm only made it's way to other branches of the military in 1913. 

Connor sat down and opened Daniels file. He's worked for the Philips family 8 years after his leave from the military, right around the time Emma was born. Nothing out of the ordinary, he's been happy serving in his capacity. This supports the reasoning that someone hired Daniel to do the murder and that he not actually behind it.

Daniel lived in a small apartment a few blocks from the Philips residence. Connor made a mental note to check it out with Hank the next time they met.

Connor set Daniels file down, there wasn't anything more to learn from him right now. He was just about to open John Philips file when the door opened. His hand immediately went to the sidearm in his leg holster as a young woman with long brown hair pulled into a bun walked in.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "I'm terribly sorry Mr. Stern, I didn't realize you were here now. I just came in take care of any laundry."

"Please, call me Connor." Connors hand relaxed and he offered an apologetic smile. "You're fine, I'm sorry for my adverse reaction. At the moment however I have nothing for you to take care of. I've been busy and hadn't actually managed to unpack."

"I see, I'll find my way back here tomorrow. If you need anything, of course you can ring down and we'll help with what you need."

"I appreciate that." Connor responded and the woman moved to leave. "Before you go, would you tell me your name?"

She turned around and nodded. "Of course, my name is Kara."

Once the door what shut again Connor got up and locked the door to avoid any more interruptions. Sitting down once again he was able to look at John Philips file.

A 38 year old man, married his high school sweetheart, became a lawyer and eventually made his way into politics. First became a city council member at age 35, then managed to become a mayor two years after, and then most recently he opened his campaign for senator. Philips would be running unopposed if it weren't for Markus Manfred.

Markus had been only in any political position for a short period of time but he's definitely made himself a well known name. If he won he would be the first black man in Michigan to be a senator. He'd mostly focused on issues not regarding Philips, he only interacted with him if absolutely had to. Philips however the same could not be said. He would take any opportunity to try and attack Markus's public image.

Connor got up and scrawled on the chalk board 'Suspects' and underneath it 'Markus'. He paused, Markus can't be the only suspect. A man as powerful and as in the public as John Philips had to have had more then one enemy. At this point it would be entirely too presumptuous to cast full suspicion on someone without more evidence.

Connor checked the time again, 12:16. A sufficient time to try and get a hold of the Lieutenant. He got on with the operator and placed the call to the precinct. 

"Detroit 7th precinct, how may we help you?" The receptionists pleasant voice came through the receiver.

"Yes, hello, can you see if Lieutenant Anderson is available?" Connor asked.

"And who may I say is calling?" 

"Connor Stern."

"I'll be just a moment." Soft elevator music started to play for a few moments before being abruptly cut off.

"What is it Stern?" Came the Lieutenant's gruff voice.

Straight to the chase then. "Daniel Smith's living space is close by. If you're available, we should check it out at soon as we can."

Silence, then a sigh. "I'll be down there in 10 minutes."

"Excellent, do you need the ad-" The line dropped. "Evidently not."

Connor shut off the lights, locked the door behind him, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the brief hiatus. While I love writing this, this is one of my better fics, it is difficult when I'm getting almost no feedback. The only reason I really got motivated to get this chapter out when I did was when someone just asked simply, "So when are you going to update?" And while I will definitely finish this with or without feedback/likes, it is a lot easier and more exciting to write when you know someone wants to read it. I'm tired, so anyways, have a good night and see you sometime very soon!


	6. The Apartment

November 7, 1928

Daniel Smith's Apartment Building

12:30 P.M.

Hank pulled up in front of the address they had on Daniel. As soon as the call came in from Connor, he began to regret coming in when he had. 

But as soon as he'd gotten back from the Philips residence Fowler had called him in and told him to get his shit together. Get into work before one in the afternoon, be sober for the majority of the week, and actually put a 'god damned effort into his work for once'.

Hank had managed to actually get into work before 11, a new record, but had still wanted to prolong working with Connor as long as he could. The tension had lessened somewhat between the two of them, but it still felt wrong to work with him. He may be a good detective but he worked for one of the most prominent mobs in the city and would probably become the Don sooner or later.

Hank sighed as he pulled up to the location. It's wasn't as though Hank isn't aware of the mobs' corruption in the police force. But usually, he wasn't partnered with any of them and they tended to steer clear of him.

Regardless, Hank would just have to get through this case as fast as he good.

"Good evening Lieutenant." Connor greeted, seemingly to appear on the curb out of nowhere as Hank got out of his car.

"Stern," Hank replied dryly, looking at the apartments in front of them. "So this is the place?"

"Yes, this is Daniel Smiths' apartment building. He's lived here since 1919 when he began to work for Philips. He tried to be as close as he could manage to be to the family." Connor opened the door, tilting his head slightly. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with." Hank walked past him into the building's first floor. "Room 06 right?"

Connor nodded, following him in. "Right down the hall on your right."

Once they reached the paint chipped door, Hank knocked a few times. "Daniel Smith?"

Silence. 

Hank sighed, knocking again. "Detroit Police, we just want to ask you some questions."

Still no response.

"Perhaps he's already le-" Connor began to suggest when a loud crash sounded from within the apartment, immediately resulting in both men drawing their guns.

"After me, got it?" Hank ordered the other.

"Understood."

Hank nodded and kicked the door in, slowly making their way further into the apartment. No one in the living room, bathroom empty, and the bedroom disheveled, clothes were thrown everywhere, the window open. 

Once they reached the mess in the bedroom Hank stopped and lowered his gun. "Shit. He's gone, left as soon as he heard us."

Connor had already holstered his gun and continued into the room. "But why now? He committed the murder two days ago. Why not leave sooner than this?"

"Didn't know what he was doing or what to do." Hank shook his head, holstering his own weapon. "I'll call the department and have them send forensics to look at the scene."

"You're not going to stay to look yourself?" Connor asked, arching his eyebrow.

"Okay look, I get that you're some hotshot detective within your company but we'll get along a whole lot better if you don't tell me how to do my job." Hank snapped. "There isn't anything more to learn from here, we'll have better luck looking into whoever hired Daniel. If your theory about the hiring has validity."

"That's your call Lieutenant, but I'm going to stay behind and check things out for myself if you don't mind."

"Have fun with that." Hank gave a half-assed wave and walked back out of the apartment, Connor cautiously inspecting the room. It was way too early in the morning for this.

Just as Hank was about to open the door, he heard a shot come from the bedroom. Immediately Hank rushes back into the bedroom, gun back in hand. He finds Connor, a growing dark red stain on his right shoulder, facing a blonde man standing with a small gun beside the bedroom window, ready to high tail it out of there.

"Daniel," Connor said calmly, not addressing Hank's presence. "Listen, I know you didn't want to hurt him, we just want to talk and understand the situation."

"I... I didn't want to." Daniel's hands shaking as he points the gun at Connor. "I loved working for them. I loved Emma, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"I know that Daniel, that's why we want to talk with you." Connor cautiously took a step forward but stopped when Daniel's grip tightens on the gun.

"Stay back." His gaze briefly landed on Hank. "You, set your gun down."

Hank shook his head. "Sorry, not going to happen."

"Lieutenant," Connor said, casting a side glance at him. "Put your weapon on the floor."

"No way in hel-"

"Lieutenant," Connor said again, this time more insistent. "I need you to trust me, and set your weapon down."

Hank stared at him for a moment before slowly putting the gun on the ground and then raising his hands in the same manner as Connor.

"There, see Daniel? We don't want to hurt you, just want to talk with you." Connor took another small step forward. "What happened?"

"I... I shot him and I left." Daniel lowered the gun slightly. 

"Why did you shoot him?" Connor asked, moving one more step closer.

"They threatened to hurt Emma if I didn't. They said they would pay me a large sum of money and they would leave Emma alone if I... if I shot him."

"Who Daniel?" He makes another step.

"I... I can't, they'll kill me, and her..."

"I promise we'll protect you Daniel, and Emma, but we need to know who's behind this." Connor is within only a few steps of him.

"I... I..." Daniel seems speechless.

Connor is now right in front of him, his hand out open. "Hand me the gun, and we'll talk this out."

Daniel looks at the gun in his hands, then at Connor's hand, and he slowly places the gun in it.

Connor sighed and placed the gun gently on the floor. "Now, who is behind the murder Daniel?"

Daniel opened his mouth when two more shots are heard, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Daniel dropped to his knees, Connor doing the same, trying to prevent him from hitting the ground. Hank rushed to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever fired the shots.

No one insight.

Hank turned around and saw Connor holding Daniel up, the two shots had gone in through his shoulder and exactly where his heart was. 

"You lied to me, Connor." He coughed up some blood, his breathing growing more ragged. "You... lied to... me..."

And with a final broken breath, Daniel Smith was gone.

Both Hank and Connor were silent for a moment before Connor slowly set Daniel on the ground and brought one hand to the body's face, closing the eyes. He stood up shakily and almost immediately sat down on the bed, clearly about to pass out.

Hank put his hands on the others shoulder. "Whoa, hold on there. Just stay there and I'll get something to bandage that." 

Connor remained silent as he took off his suit jacket and shirt to expose the wound. Hank left and searched the first aid for some gauze. When he came back Connor was still upright, staring at Daniel's body. Hank got closer and inspected the wound, a clean shot that went straight through. He grimaced, there was a lot of blood, and as Hank began to wrap the injury he couldn't help but noticed the menagerie of scars. Scars that ranged from small and precise to large gashes, some looking as recent as a few weeks and others looking so faded they could have happened when he was much younger. Connor gave no indication that he was in pain or even marginally uncomfortable as Hank finished the wrapping.

"Are you all right kid?" Hank finally broke the silence.

"I'll be alright, more disappointed in the fact that he managed to get a shot off," Connor said dismissively.

"What exactly happened when I left?" He asked.

"I heard a shifting noise from the closet. While I didn't see anything obvious, I found a loose board in the back. Daniel jumped out, knocking me back, and tried to escape out the window. I managed to recover enough to get close to him, so he shot me. I'm willing to bet with the same M1911A1 handgun he shot Philips with."

Connor stood up, somewhat more steady than he'd been a moment before. He reached in his pocket, bringing out a small evidence bag, and walked to the wall opposite the window. After pulling on some plastic gloves he dug into the small hole one of the bullets had gone through and managed to extract it, repeating the same thing with the hole that had gone lower into the wall.

"I'm sure someone has called the police already because of the shots, they should be here any time now." He turned back to Hank, his posture is no longer strict but now slack and tired. "Thank you Lieutenant for bandaging my wound."

Hank stared at him for a moment. "No problem kid. But do you need anything for the pain? That shot tore through you pretty bad. Even some booze would probably help."

Connor shook his head. "There's really no need. I've had worse than this, I'll be fine."

Hank raised an eyebrow at him before shrugging. "Whatever you say, kid. But you should still get to a hospital soon, my bandaging is pretty shit."

'Will do." A distant door slammed opened and calls of 'Detroit Police' sounded out. Connor moved his arms to be somewhat apart from his body. To Hank's questioning look Connor responded. "There's a dead body and I work for Stern, it won't take long to clear it up but might as well get it prepared for the police officers about to come in here."

Hank just shook his head and began to mentally form his statement he'd have to write later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ho, look at me back with another chapter. I kinda got stuck at the last bit and still not entirely happy with how it turned out, but what I've learned is that I can go back an fix it but to go forward I need to get something out and by god I'll at least get that much done.


End file.
